The House of H Alliance
by Fadzly B.R
Summary: A Scarlet Crusader caught between the love for his father and his duties. will he forge the almost mythical House of Het? or will he be just another body to be thrown against the Forsaken?


A Knife to the Heart

_Betrayal. Nothing else can cut through the heart like it and nothing else can compare to the betrayal of someone close to you…like a brother. What ever had become of the bond that was forged in the fires of war, forged out of mere friendship to one of kinship? I know not the reason you did not appear that fateful day, but because of it… I lost more than half of my contingent, along with the retainers that straggle along with us as we fought the Scourge invasion over at Hillsbrad Foothills. Where were you when I needed you the most? Anarelon Firewell, your name burns in my memory with your promise and to be betrayed... by you… seethe my very thoughts. _

The old man sat watching the sunset; his face creased and wrinkled belying his still sharp eyes and mind. His hands were holding an ornate dagger, made out of lynx bone and mithril and carved in the halls of the fabled Silvermoon City. He clenched it as if he wanted to break the dagger through sheer force but he knew that to do so would break his promise. His side of the 'bargain' as Laurie had put it when the pact was made. That cheeky gnome would have stolen it too had Kell, the cyan Troll not threatened to cook the gnome in the pots of the Witherbark. The old man chuckled softly at the memory, those were carefree times. How a troll, a gnome, a human and an elf managed to stay in one group was beyond him but that was what happened. But it was during the troubled times that the kinship grew stronger and each had promised to be in the aid of each other during times of crisis.

"Its no use reminiscing the old times, it's all in the past. There is no more House of H, it died when you betrayed me Anarelon. Though vengeance is all that I have left, I am too old for this. Ha! I can't believe you just said that Landen Grimhall! You are just a pathetic old man."

Landen Grimhall was a former lieutenant of the King's Army, his coming of age celebrated with his promotion to the ranks 30 years ago. He was proud of the fact that he was the only lieutenant of the Fifth Militia that was not over the customary thirty years of age. Despite the hardships of training and age discrimination, Landen had always managed to oust the older recruits not only in studies of war and command but the physical aspects of an officer as well. But now after all the wars and battles, first with the orcs and then the Scourge, had sapped the strength in him. It's as if he was one of the orcs in the internment camps, lethargic and weak, not even able to lift a finger. He knew the betrayal paid a heavy toll on him. He had believed… and even that has been taken away from him. With a swift flick, the dagger went clattering on the floor.

"Father, are you alright?" a strong, masculine voice asked. Landen turned to face the voice and his features seems to soften at the sight of the young man standing at the doorway. The young man was all that he was in his prime and more. It would seem that he had taken his wife's eyes and hair for while Landen' eyes and hair are hazel, his son Rochem Grimhall was a stark black.

"It's nothing my son, nothing that I should bother you with", Landen replied softly as he turned his head away from the doorway and watched the last rays of the sun fall beyond the horizon. "I was… reminiscing."

Rochem walked towards his father, one that he had looked up to all his life and saw the dagger on the floor. It angered him that his father still kept that dagger from that… betrayer and it nagged at him that his father would never allow him to throw away that Light forsaken dagger. Rochem spat. "Is that elf still in your thoughts father? I would think that with all that had happened you would finally release your self from this pitiful state."

"Silence!" Landen roared. "You were not there! You were not there when all those around you were only ghouls and endless zombies and all that you had were your friends fighting for your life!"

"Then why still keep that dagger? Didn't he betrayed you? You told me never ever to listen to any elves be it highborn or that light lost _blood elves_ and yet, here you are lamenting about your past life with that Light damned elf!" Rochem retaliated. He was about to picked the dagger up when his dad shouted.

"Enough! You would do well to remember your place Rochem. I would have no son of mine to disrespect their elders." Landen eyes flared with a holy energy that the paladins had whenever their righteous rage took over.

"I am sorry father. I only worry about you. You have been very different lately, as if a fever had taken a hold of your senses." Rochem apologized. "I am your son father and I know that something is wrong."

Landen took a slow deep breath. "How many times have people broken their promises to you Rochem?" His son shrugged indicating he would not know even if he counted. "And therein lies the problem. I am honor bound to the pact that I have made years ago and yet in my heart, I yearn for vengeance. I yearn to know the truth of him as I have not heard anything of him ever since and that rankled me. For I would want to know _why_ I was betrayed!"

Rochem was about to speak when a messenger boy came up to the doorway. "I am sorry masters but Lord Morgraine requests all the remaining paladins to the main hallway. The congregation will start soon." The boy nodded to both men and proceeded to run to the other rooms.

Rochem looked at his father and receive a shake of the head. "I do not have the heart for anymore battles Rochem. Leave me here."

"As you wish father. The Light be with you." Rochem bowed and proceeded to don his red rimmed, white background tabard. He was still worried about his father but he was more worried about the outbreak of an unknown group of undead in the ruins of Lordaeron. They call themselves the Forsaken though why there would be a break in the undead ranks, only the Light knows. His mail boots rang across the floor of the courtyard as he made his way among the rows of the Scarlet Crusaders…


End file.
